Playing With Fire
by tamechampagne
Summary: Those who play with fire should expect to be consumed by it, but should hope for escape.


_**"Ladies who play with fire must take care to remember that the smoke will get in their eyes."**_

* * *

 **Playing With Fire**

The green eyed beauty meandered through a crowd of hormone filled teens, her "peers". She walked at a pace slow enough for the guys to get an eyeful but just quick enough so that none of them found the opportunity for an opening to talk to her.

She had mastered the whole unattainable thing down to a carefully curated glint in her eyes. Even the red solo cup in her hand was planned. Buttercup didn't drink at parties, the sticky smell of beer never quite aroused her thirst, however, keeping her cup half full was enough to keep stammering guys at bay. _Hey there you—you need_ _—_ _refill?_ No, thank you.

Finally, she spotted a small knot of people on the back porch. With one vicious glare, a path had cleared for her to the center of their interest, none other than her sisters. She was entirely unsurprised to find them holding court.

They were 17 now, meaning the novelty should've worn off but no, Townsville's residents practically fell over themselves for an 'in' with the trio.

Buttercup had a working theory that they tried to attach themselves to her and her sisters to feel special because they thought the girls were special.

Bubbles was chattering about some silly thing that caught her attention for the week and Blossom was politely tolerating questions. _Blah blah flying blah blah monsters blah blah yes, that history test was rough._

They both looked relieved that Buttercup had come to thin out the masses.

"I get that I'm everything nice but even that was a little much, they shouldn't like stuff just because I do. My face hurts from smiling." Her sisters nodded sympathetically.

"I've done my time girls." Buttercup said.

"Come on Buttercup don't ditch yet, please?"

Buttercup sniffed her cup experimentally, maybe she'd drink to make the party more fun? Nope. She blanched and poured it out in the grass. "Not my crowd."

She gave both of them a hug before she took off into the sky towards home to change. She liked her current outfit enough sure, but a skirt just wouldn't do well where she was headed.

Buttercup didn't bother calling out for the professor when she touched down on the lawn because there was at least a 90% chance that he was still at the lab downtown.

Professor spent so much time in the lab scanning every inch of the earth for possible monsters and logging the data and stats from the monsters they _did_ face.

Even though they'd grown stronger and more powerful with age and had time to really hone their powers, he'd really lightened their load.

Thanks to the Professor they had special weapons that varied depending on the monster attack. Buttercup's personal favorite was the battle suit but they only got to use them on super rare occasions.

Professor had actually designed them specifically to use if the boys ever rose from the petty crime dust and tried to destroy the girls again.

The suits came in each of their signature colors and fit like catsuits. It amplified their natural powers ten times over, generated extra Chemical X to heal them quicker in the case of injury, _and_ had a wicked cool stealth mode.

The boys had kept to their retirement—their sole purpose no longer to destroy her and her sisters—so, so far they'd only gotten to use the suits for trial runs.

She flitted to her room in a lime green streak and was dressed properly in no time; a long sleeve olive green bodysuit, black jeans and black boots to match. That was more like it. She took off again, this time faster and headed straight for Citysville.

* * *

She'd barely kissed the ground when a guy stepped up from the shadows to greet her. She resisted the urge to smile as he pulled her into a tight embrace instead pushing him off and ruffling her hand through his brunette mop that he insisted on growing out.

"Popeye," Her lips quirked up into a ghost of a smirk. "Always a pleasure."

"Thorn," he responded in kind. "Always painfully out of reach."

She clucked her tongue pityingly, "Tsk, Mitchelson. I thought you loved a little pain with your pleasure."

Buttercup didn't wait for his reply, instead opting to help herself. She punched in the code without even looking and let herself into his garage.

"No guy likes that much pain, babe." She told her eyes, already knowing where this was headed. "Y'know 'cept maybe–"

"Finish that sentence and I promise you'll be in so much pain you may never feel pleasure again." She warned, aiming a wrench straight for his junk.

He just laughed like the sailor he got his nickname from and started to help her dig through his tools. Tonight would be the night Mitch won for a change.

It went without saying that when Buttercup first fell in with this crowd she felt more at home than she'd ever been. Popular as she was she didn't care to hang out with people from her school outside of school.

Those guys' idea of fun was parties and gossip, and where an underage drink or a badly rolled joint was enough to get their hearts racing.

That was all well and good y'know because to each their own, right? But Buttercup had superpowers, it took way more than that to get her blood pumping.

She liked being on the school teams—during which they had her wear a special bracelet that neutralized her powers, which was fair. And she loved fighting monsters and criminals, except fighting those guys couldn't be her only source of real fun—that wasn't fair.

So imagine her surprise, or lack of it or whatever, when she runs into none other than the Rowdyruff's during a routine sweep of Townsville and finds out what they've been up to.

It all threw her for a loop at first, that these guys couldn't give less of a damn about who she was other than her police connections. Despite all this, by the time her initiation process was over she had grown pretty close with them.

The boys had by no means cleaned up their act. The crimes that they committed weren't much of a public endangerment. She didn't care what the Ruff's or the other guys did crime-wise as long at it was one of those lesser evil crimes.

Like when Butch killed someone (brutally because he was quite possibly incapable of anything less) it didn't matter because the guys he bothered killing were murderers and rapists.

Or when Boomer stole shit, why should she care that he stole parts off of a stolen bike? And she could hardly bust Brick for assault from a fight club she was part of.

She was practically one of them, they just had different day jobs. Buttercup was a superheroine and they were criminals. Tomato potato.

"Ace and the gang still at the shop?" she inquired, wiping her hands off on a random rag.

"Yeah, you should stop by. They tricked it out to look all professional and shit."

"That can't've been too hard considering what it looked like the last time I was there." Buttercup rolled her eyes.

Just walking through the door made her feel like she needed a bath, lest she catch hepatitis's A through E. It was anything but professional.

Even so, she'd gone there for her piercings, all seven of them. Though she did make sure to buy all her own tools and jewelry.

The gangrene gang was less of a gang now that they were in their mid-20s, less evil more fucking about. Their main haunt was the tattoo parlor Ace won in an all-or-nothing fight.

The guy he won it off of was huge and didn't take into account that the green skinned asshole used to face up with superheroes.

While they worked on Mitch's motorbike she let her mind drift back to her sisters. They were almost certainly still at the party pretending they weren't bored to tears.

Blossom and Bubbles weren't quite the adrenaline junkies their green-eyed sister tended to be, still, they felt their classmates had other drawbacks.

All they ever asked Blossom about was leader stuff or how smart she was and they went to Bubbles for smiley face stickers and kept dumping all their problems on her like it was her job to give them a pick me up.

Bubbles was definitely more comfortable with her assumed role among the three of them, only the idolization seemed to bother her. It was almost as if the girls' word meant more than their own personal opinions.

She always felt a little guilty when she ditched them for her friends although they had each other so that did make her feel a little better.

 _Maybe one of these days I'll bring them along._ Buttercup mused before a terrible shudder went through her. No, she'd be an outcast. Everyone would think she narc'ed and her sisters would probably be uncomfortable.

"Alright, I think I'm ready to go for tonight!" Mitch declared proudly tossing his tools to the side. "You going domestic tonight?"

"I might hop on if Baron or Duke ride. I'm more in the mood for a good old-fashioned leg race." She shrugged unsurely.

"With your Ruff of choice of course," He snickered. "we both know who that'll be."

She didn't even bother telling him to shut the hell up. Everyone knew no one normal bothered taking up against her. She always ended up battling the Ruffs and when she got her pick of which one to go against she almost always chose the same one.

Mitch mounted his bike and Buttercup led the way in the sky towards the main warehouse. They were late, evidenced by the girls lined up at one end watching Jet spinning around in the pit.

Buttercup slapped hands with all the guys, who were already two deep apparently, and nodded in the girls' direction, with most of them waving back.

A patent smirk found its way to her face as she stuffed her hands in her leather jacket that Kim, Mitch's girl, had just brought out to her. He hooked his arm around Kim's shoulders and planted a kiss on her head prior to shrugging on his own jacket.

The twins were shoving each other and ambling over but Buttercup just shot them a quick 'hey' and floated away.

Normally she'd stick it through their crude humor and incessant arguing that'd just make her more wound up. Buttercup had had a really shit week.

On top of failing her math test, getting detention on Monday, and being benched for the soccer game, she and the girls had defeated not one, not two, but _three_ damn villains this week. One bank robbery and two monsters.

The bank robbery and lizard monster were a breeze. However, the other monster was made out of some strange sludge and proved to be a real challenge.

It looked like the Slime Monster they'd faced when they were little but much more…viscous, like it was made of gum or something. Buttercup loved to fight as much as the next gal except that punching sludge was no damn picnic.

She and her sisters hadn't even actually beat the Slime Monster either, they'd just found its stupid kitty, so they were shit out of luck.

Eventually, they defeated it with a combination of Blossom's freeze breath and Bubbles' scream. She and her sisters had taken the next day off school because they were so exhausted (and also because they felt gross and it took goddamn ages to clean the sludge out their ears).

Anyway, between the stupid monster and school Bloss had insisted they all make an appearance at that party in midtown.

She wasn't too keen on those parties though she did agree that she needed a good dose of fun. It just so happened that she wouldn't have any of it in Townsville.

Finally, she laid eyes on the Ruff's who were, predictably, going on about some stupid nonsense. Brick and Boomer seemed to be having the main disagreement. Butch was leant against his bike sniggering at his brother and occasionally offering his less than helpful input.

"Woah, 'sup dickheads?" She swiped Butch's bottle of jack that he kept in his back pocket and smashed it, just for kicks.

He snarled and made for her neck but Boomer caught him with lightning reflexes and threw him to the floor. Butch didn't bother to get up he just sat there laughing with his arm propped up on his knee.

"Boomer wants to change his name." Brick rolled his eyes. "Sissypants here doesn't like his current one."

"Fuck off," Boomer narrowed his eyes at his leader. "the Dumbest of the Dumb isn't fair. Not up against Duke of Destruction and Baron of Berserk anyway."

"Fuck off, DotD stays."

"Hold up, if Boomer gets a new one I want a new name too." Buttercup demanded. She hated Thorn.

"Double fuck off, I picked your name myself!" Butch cut in. He'd finally gotten up from the ground and had mounted his bike. "It's a pun. You just don't get it, you dick."

"I get the stupid pun, asshole." She growled. "It just isn't funny."

"Shut up, both of you." Brick yelled and held his hand up. "Hand over your cuts. Boomer, you're BUG."

"And don't kid yourself, if anyone's the BUG it's Grubber. I want my new name to be Sonic Boom." Brick didn't acknowledge this, which Boomer took as a yes.

"Buttercup, how 'bout Ivy?" Ivy would do her just as well as Thorn.

"As in Poison Ivy?" she scoffed. "Not a chance. I don't ride Harley's."

Butch snorted at that. "Poison Ivy sounds perfect. Always, knew you were in the Scissor Squad."

"Just because you don't stand a chance in hell doesn't make her a dyke, Butch." Boomer smirked at his brother.

"Like I need her with Princess on my jock." He shot right back. The two of them started going back and forth about girls, a fight Buttercup would've put money on Boomer for winning, and she was left to pick her new title with Brick.

"Thorn is a good name, BC." He twisted his signature red cap around so he could look at her better.

"Nah," she shook her head and hopped on his bike. "its flower themed." Brick didn't say anything to that. He knew Buttercup's whole deal with how she felt about her name. _Because it also starts with a B!_ "Spice."

Brick nodded along in lieu to showing any actual agreement. He glanced at his brothers—they were still arguing about p*ssy. He rolled his eyes again and tossed his keys to Buttercup.

She caught them with ease and revved up his black and red KTM 390 Duke after he'd climbed on. While Brick's bike was nice Boomer's electric blue Ducati 1199 was better.

Brick was better suited for cars, his black McLaren P1 was heaven sent. He'd literally had to rob a bank to buy it yet, extremely unethically, Buttercup overlooked it in exchange for shotgun rights.

Plus, it was a small consolation to her that he'd actually robbed 10 different banks to get it.

Brick didn't give a shit if he robbed 1, 10, or 100 banks. He could run them all dry and not bat an eye if he weren't concerned that it would ruin the autonomy he and his brothers had come to enjoy.

Suffice to say he'd be pretty pissed if they stopped flying just under the radar of the Powerpuff Girls. And fuck if he'd put Buttercup in the position to try and bust them.

He looked down at where his arms had latched loosely around Buttercup's waist. Normally he didn't bother holding onto the passenger's bars, much less onto her but his mind was miles away tonight.

Brick adjusted his grip a little tighter, aside from picking up the pace she didn't seem bothered by it. Brick didn't know why he thought it might, Buttercup was fairly chill about most things.

He hadn't really seen the other two unless the countless times their damn faces were plastered all over the news, and in the papers, all the time counted. All three of them had grown into their own yet the pictures didn't do Buttercup much justice.

Bubbles looked just as everyone expected her to turn out: beautiful, blonde, and equipped with a smile that had the phasers set to stun.

Blossom was much the same, only a bit more conventional. Her long red hair and bangs framed her face perfectly and she had a cute smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose.

Buttercup was a different story altogether. Most of the time when the girls got their pictures snapped Buttercup looked like she could still be mid-fight.

It's not that she was uncomfortable with the media, the girls had been locally famous since they were 5, so it was safe to assume Buttercup's angry gaze had little to nothing to do with paparazzi in her face.

All the same, when they disposed of threats their chests always swelled with apparent pride of justice prevailing excluding Buttercup, she swelled with the glory of a battle well fought. She always glowed afterward, like a valkyrie, no matter how beaten about she looked—and she always looked worse for wear than her sisters.

Brick liked that. She had all the ferocity of Butch with none of the sociopathic tendencies.

She spun to a stop on the unused track on the far side of the warehouse. The others could easily be heard but she could barely make them out.

Boomer and Butch looked to have gotten bored of their row and were downing beers side by side.

Buttercup looked a little behind her where Brick had gotten off and opted to lean on it. With a weird sick feeling, she realized that he was her best friend next to Mitch.

 _Eugh._ She hadn't thought too much about it before outside of Mitch's teasing. If she looked at it, he was right. Brick really was her favorite of the Ruffs.

His calm level-headedness used to unsettle her, still, she couldn't think of anything she currently found more soothing. She flipped the kickstand and stood next to him.

"Staring is impolite," he smirked. "Professor ought to have taught you better than that."

"Oh my, I must've gotten caught up in your sheer amazingness. You have my sincerest apologies oh masterful Duke of Destruction."

Brick couldn't stifle the laugh that bubbled up. He liked that too, she was damn funny for a powder puff.

"Careful there," he warned as his eyes grew a deeper red. "keep talking like that and I may have to make you my ol' lady."

"Oh, fuck off. That hurt, man." It was Buttercup's turn to laugh now and she shoulder checked him. Brick smiled down at her once he regained his balance.

"Don't get testy with me, it's club rules." Brick considered mentioning that half the club sought her to wear their colors but thought better of it.

She probably knew. But did she? Did she know that she had her pick of men? There was a short lull that followed while Brick weighed his options.

He was curious if she ever planned on locking down an old man. At least he assumed that's what whoever Buttercup chose would be an old man, like how the guys chose old ladies.

Maybe she'd only ever have back warmers like Butch. Brick heavily doubted it. He couldn't imagine a guy who could possibly measure up to her, or even come close without feeling threatened.

The redhead nudged her experimentally and when she turned to look at him he swept in to place a tender kiss on her decidedly unsuspecting lips.

Buttercup panicked while her brain to catch up with what was happening. When she finally regained her proper senses, which took all of about three seconds, she slapped Brick across the face.

She attempted to take a step back but his hand held her firmly in place. It was warm on her back.

"Dude," she trailed off when she met his gaze. A beat. "Brick."

"I was wondering if you'd ever claim a back warmer. Didn't mean to do that, though. You get it." He released her, resuming his position from before.

She admired that his voice showed no hint of embarrassment. He didn't seem to be shaken not one whit.

She couldn't even bring herself to be angry about the ambush because not only was he so casual about it but he was damn good.

Buttercup had never been kissed with such confidence.

"Nah. I don't want or need a back warmer or an old man. I'm in it for the action. Next time all you have to do is ask asshole."

"I liked my method better." he sounded smug. "However unexpected it was."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

 _Challenge accepted_. Buttercup grabbed him by his leather jacket to return the favor and then some. Brick's eyes widened as she simultaneously flattened her body against his and parted his lips with her tongue.

By the time he started to return the sentiment she'd already decided she was done and ready for the real fun to start. With one hand she pushed him easily a foot away and hopped back on the bike.

"C'mon, or we'll miss everything!"

Brick was thrown but mounted nevertheless. And that dumbstruck feeling didn't leave him for the rest of the night, even as he went on to win several times in a row that night.


End file.
